


Penumbra

by Ausp_ice



Series: Umbral [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amorphous/Barely-Existent Anatomy, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shadow Monster Nines, Tentacle Sex, Teratophilia, Xenophilia, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice
Summary: A month after Connor realizes his shadow's been possessed, he caves, indulging in his... physical pleasures.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900
Series: Umbral [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833715
Comments: 13
Kudos: 76





	Penumbra

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some masturbation action sksksksksk  
> Well. At least, it's masturbation at first ha

Connor sighs, pinching his brow. It's late, he's tired. Stressed. He wanted to finish the basic outline of the program before he slept, but he's not sure how much longer he'll be able to stay awake. 

The fact that he's probably being piloted as he sleeps certainly doesn't contribute to his physical or mental wellness. 

It's been about four months since Connor's "encounter" in that back alley. About one since he met Nines face-to-face, finally finding out that he had gotten a freeloader. A week since he resigned himself to never being able to escape. It's not like anyone can help him; what is he supposed to say, "There's a monster in my shadow and I can't get rid of it?" Yeah, that'll go over well. Everyone would probably think he finally lost it. Late nights ironing out bugs in computer programs.

He closes his laptop screen, giving another sigh. Usually, if he's this stressed, and it's this late, he'd rub one out in bed to help get his brain to stop going in circles. Relieve some of his stress. But he hasn't ever since he realized Nines was there—though he's a little mortified to think about the number of times he masturbated in the three months before discovering the thing's presence. Was Nines just watching then? Was he asleep, or otherwise unaware? If he wasn't, did he like watching Connor, or was he disgusted by it? Connor's still a little icky about the mess himself sometimes, even if he does chase the pleasure. 

Fuck, Nines probably saw the erotica Connor indulged in. He probably knew a whole bunch of kinks that Connor definitely did not need anyone to know anything about. 

… Well. Can't get much worse than what's already there, Connor supposes. Besides, Connor isn't going to let some supernatural shadow monster thing keep him from doing what he wants. It's _his_ body. 

So he tells himself, but by the time he's showered and in bed, lights off, box of tissues in hand, he's starting to have doubts again. It's different, knowing someone's there, and he's 61% sure he's not an exhibitionist. 

Okay, come on, Connor. Say you're stuck with Nines with the rest of your life. Are you really not going to cave at some point? If it's going to happen eventually, might as well let it happen sooner rather than later. There's nothing wrong with relieving some stress, if Nines has a problem with it, he can mosey out of Connor's shadow. Maybe sex doesn't mean the same thing to him, since he's not human, and not even organic. 

Connor successfully convinces himself, and grabs a few tissues before setting the box on his bedside table. He lays down on his side, starting with sliding his hand into his pants, wrapping his fingers around his cock. 

God, it's been so long. He squeezes himself, not too tightly for now, moving up and down his dick. His breath picks up as he feels himself fill out at the stimulation, and his pants become a little too tight for comfort. 

Nines still hasn't done anything, he notes. Maybe it'll be fine. 

Connor slides his pants and boxers down, freeing his length. He doesn't look down—he usually doesn't like to. The sight weirds him out sometimes. He keeps his eyes closed as he pumps himself, rocking his hips into his hand, an occasional hum escaping his lips as his pleasure slowly builds. 

If he'd had his eyes open, he might've noticed the shadows crawling on the walls. Since he did, in fact, have his eyes closed, it isn't until he feels a strange pressure on his arms and torso that he opens his eyes and sees the moonlit shadows twisted into sharp curves and clawed hands on his walls. 

_Oh,_ he thinks, and then looks down at himself. _Fuck,_ he then thinks, when he notices shadowy tendrils wrapped around him, the shadow of a hand sliding down his thigh. There's no volume—it's just flat—but Connor can _feel_ it. 

Connor tries to move, only to find his movements restricted. He feels his face burn when the realization of his situation only makes his dick twitch in interest.

"Would you like some assistance, Connor?" he hears right next to his ear, and a full-body shudder goes through him.

"A-ah, fuck," he huffs, hand tightening around his dick. He's too far in to let go now—it'd just leave him frustrated and unsatisfied. His pride isn't strong enough for him to refuse, and he barely resists as he's caressed by his own shadow. That strange pressure slides down his arm, moving down to the hand he has wrapped around his dick, then actually to his dick. 

Connor groans when Nines _squeezes_ him, in a form not like any human hand. He bucks into the sensation—or he tries, but he can't move with all the shadows binding him. At that realization, Connor squeezes himself tighter, chasing the rising pleasure, only for his hand to be pried away and pinned above his head. The movement pushes him to his back, and he fights against the restraining shadows by sheer instinct—all the blood in his brain has rushed to his dick, and all he can think about is the way Nines squeezes the pleasure out of him, the way Nines won't even let him move, the way that Connor is now completely powerless to Nines's whims. 

He hears a chuckle by his ear, feels that same light pressure wrap around his neck. "You seem to be enjoying this. Far more than your usual."

If Connor had any doubt that Nines wasn't paying attention to the kind of kinks he has, he doesn't have any doubts now. Connor groans, trying and failing to move both hands down. "Nngh, god…"

Nines chuckles again, before the shadows on Connor's body solidify, gaining volume. Suddenly, there are hands and tendrils all over his body, and the tendril on his dick curls around his entire length, pumping him steadily, bringing him closer and closer to the brink. The pressure around his neck—right, that was there—increases, suddenly, and it's hard to breathe and he can't move but it's just enough to push him over the edge, spilling over the shadowy forms on his dick. 

The pressure eases—around his neck, on his cock, on his arms and body where he was held down. Connor breathes heavily as he recovers, watching the shadows on the walls shift and twist and return to normal. And, presumably, his own shadow.

He doesn't move until his breaths go back to normal, more or less. He managed not to let go of the tissues in his hand the entire time, even if they're all crumpled together now. Good enough to accomplish their purpose, which is wiping off the cooling cum on himself and the bedsheets. He'd normally come into the tissues, but sue him, he was distracted. And also restrained. Guess he'll just scoot away from the wet spots tonight. Too lazy to clean it properly right now.

Connor tosses the used tissues in the trash can by his bed, before pulling up his pants and grabbing his blankets to cover himself. Connor's already feeling hazy and sleepy, and he is resolutely not thinking too much about what just happened. As his consciousness melts away, though, he at least manages to mumble out, "Thanks, I guess."

He thinks he might feel a touch on his face, but by then, he's already slipping into nothingness.


End file.
